Chapter 12 Delayed Gratification
Delayed Gratification
Now who’s the confident one?
As he continued his trail of soft kisses, I considered everything I knew about Hudson. It wasn’t much, but he had such an easy, likable way about him. I never imagined that the same attributes that endeared him to everyone from uptight engineers to airline staff would extend to sex.
But I couldn’t argue with results. He was so, so sexy.
“You’re surprisingly smooth, you know that?”
He placed a kiss on my jaw. “I’ll try not to take that personally.”
“It’s just that at work, you’re so…” Friendly? Straightforward? Uncomplicated? I couldn’t find a word that seemed to fit him right.
Another kiss. This one at the sensitive base of my throat. “It takes a lot of effort to function normally when all you want to do is crawl under your coworker’s desk, spread her legs, and worship her until she screams so loud the walls shake.”
Pinch me, I must be dreaming.
No—fuck me, I must be dreaming.
“So…you agree?” I asked hesitantly. This moment felt soap-bubble delicate. I didn’t want it to pop. “We’re going to do this?”
“One night. Relaxed. No pressure. No strings. Blazingly hot orgasms. Come to work the next day like nothing happened and get off-the-books sex toy lessons in our spare time,” Hudson confirmed. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I shivered. “Anything else?”
“No, I think that about covers it.”
“Then, yeah. I agree.”
And neither of us wasted any time sealing that agreement with a kiss.
No, not just a kiss.
We sealed it with foreplay.
Our lips met in a furious collision, and as they explored new territory, our hands did the same.
I wandered the great plane of his chest, feeling every inch of him like I’d wanted to do since the day we met.
He held fast to my hips, yanking me closer than I thought possible.
All that separated him from my virginity was a few measly layers of fabric.
My hips unconsciously rolled against him, hungry for the friction against my center. Moaning into my mouth, he rewarded me with just that, pressing even tighter.
Not satisfied, I knocked the contents of my desk onto the floor and lay back, flush against its surface. It was torture to pull away from Hudson’s attentive mouth for even a second, but it was all worth it when I gripped him by the collar and pulled him down on top of me.
Oh.
There he was, the spectacular all of him, pinning me to my desk. In my needy haze, I didn’t have much capacity for critical thought. Not enough to dissect my form or worry that we were going to break the desk or wonder if I should slow down and savor the sex…
Just enough to relish Hudson’s breath on my chest as he unbuttoned my shirt, and just enough to think:
This is it. I’m going to lose it. I’m going to lose it to Hudson—
A painfully loud mechanical shriek cut through the euphoria. Hudson broke away, looking up at what I could only assume was the 3-D printer finishing its work on the prototype phallus I’d been crafting all evening.
Nope. Not dealing with that right now. I had sex on the brain and for once, I wasn’t going to let my job get in the way of that.
I went for Hudson’s belt buckle.
“Scout.”
The machine beeped again. I dragged my lips down his bare chest, toward the erection I struggled to free from its tailored khaki prison.
“Just ignore the printer,” I said. “It can wait.”
“It’s not about that.” He reached down and took my hands in his. I’d been a half second away from taking the length of him in my mouth, but it was the simplicity of that gesture that made me the wettest I’d been all evening. “I’m not fucking you in the office.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Besides the obvious HR implications? Your first time should be more than a quickie on a desk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why does it matter where it happens? I knew I’d never be one of those rose-petals-and-candlelight girls.”
He flinched, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “And what makes you think that?”
What didn’t make me think that? I was a north-of-plus-size engineer with mousy black hair and no social skills.
I’d never been one for romance, and I’d assumed that no one was going to be sweeping me off my feet for grand, romantic sexual escapades.
That no one was going to make my first time special, no one was going to make me feel special.
Although now that I thought about it, was that all a symptom of my relationship with Lloyd?
“I don’t know. That’s just how I’ve always felt.”
“Want to unpack that at all?”
“Not really. This is just sex, Hudson. It’s not a relationship.”
“It’s not not a relationship either. It’s more of a—”
“If you say situationship, I’ll find someone else to fuck.”
After all the time we’d spent together in the office as colleagues, I’d never really noticed his laugh.
I’d noticed that he laughed often, but not how it sounded.
Clear and sure, like he wanted me to know exactly how much I delighted him.
“Look, I don’t have sex with people I don’t give a shit about.
I want to get between your legs and get to know you. ”
I squirmed. Could I even handle that? Or would the sex and closeness be too much for me? He caught my discomfort.
“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “I’ll let you lead on the friendship thing.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple, soft and tender, and tugged me back to my feet.
“Now, about the sex part. How about tomorrow?” he propositioned. “We can have our first sex toy lesson, and then you can take me back to your place. Make sure you’re totally comfortable.”
There it was. That zing he talked about. Zing!
He cares about you. God, how fucking sexy was that?
Dizzy, I leaned back against the desk for support…and admired my handiwork. With his hair all askew, his shirt half-buttoned, his glasses slightly crooked on his handsome nose, and a slight dark spot punctuating the outline of cock hidden by his dark-wash jeans, he screamed sexual frustration.
And I’d been the one to make him that way. I’d been the one to get him hard and wet and a half second away from turning my office into a porn shoot.
I could have kicked my feet and squealed for how thrilling that felt.
“Yeah. That sounds great. Better than losing it on a desk, anyway.”
“Exactly. Besides…” he said, gesturing over to the 3-D printer, where the painfully long and thick dildo I’d been printing now proudly stood. “It’s hard for a man to perform when he’s competing against that.”
The sound of my laugh bounced gleefully off my office walls.
There were, it seemed, some criteria I’d forgotten on my perfect-man list.
He has to be great at making me laugh.
Then another thought struck.
Oh, and making me cum, but I guess we’ll see about that tomorrow, won’t we?